


Getting Him Home

by Mrs_SimonTam_PHD



Category: Prodigal Son (TV 2019)
Genre: Bondage, Bratty!Malcolm, Daddy Kink, Dick Pics, Gil Makes a Dad Joke But He Might Be Serious, Lingerie, M/M, Mild knife play, Or is it dagger play?, Restraints, bottom!Malcolm, d/s dynamics, dom!gil, mentions of spanking, sub!Malcolm, top!gil
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-30
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-16 18:26:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29086818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mrs_SimonTam_PHD/pseuds/Mrs_SimonTam_PHD
Summary: Malcolm Bright is bored. He is at his loft, recovering from a stab wound, and Gil won't let him come to any crime scenes.So he figured that if he can't go to Gil, he can get Gil to come home.
Relationships: Gil Arroyo/Malcolm Bright
Comments: 4
Kudos: 37





	Getting Him Home

**Author's Note:**

> So I had the idea of Malcolm in red lingerie, and I've had some lovely people provide me with ideas as I talked it out with them. And this fic is the result of that.

Malcolm Bright was bored. 

That was something that could easily be very well expected from the fact that the profiler was on what equated to bed rest. 

The previous case had him laid up with a bad case of  _ knife wound in the side  _ and Gil had forbidden him from future crime scenes for at least two weeks. 

It had been three days, there was a new crime scene, and Gil warned him that if he saw Malcolm at the crime scene, he’d make sure that the youth wouldn’t be able to move. Whether that meant with chains or with injury, Malcolm wasn’t sure, and he didn’t want to find out. Incurring his older boyfriend’s wrath would not go well. 

So here he was, bored. 

He’s gone through his entire to be read pile. He’s let Sunshine fly around the loft. He’s eaten- and cooked. He’s changed his bandages. He caught up on his shows. He talked to his mother. He talked to Ainsley. He avoided a call with his father, knowing that if Martin Whitly knew that his son had been hurt on a case, his father would be on a tear, and he did not  _ need  _ that. 

So he was now lounging in bed, wondering when Gil would allow him back at the crime scenes. 

Thinking about Gil made him smile, and he reached over for his phone to text him. 

_ I Am Bright: How’s the case going?  _

_ Blazes in Blazers: At another crime scene, Bright. Same killer, it looks like.  _

_ I Am Bright: I could help.  _

_ Blazes in Blazers: I’m sure you could, but you were just stabbed three days ago. I’m not risking you tearing open your stitches running all over NYC. No. Stay.  _

_ I Am Bright: But Gil *pleading face emoji*  _

_ Blazes in Blazers: NO, Malcolm.  _

Malcolm exhaled roughly and pouted, knowing that Gil wouldn’t see it, but it made him feel better all the same. 

_ Blazes in Blazers: I’m just looking out for you, baby boy. I want you here, but I want you here in when you’re not already in danger of hurting yourself further. This is for your health.  _

_ I Am Bright: Still feels like a time out.  _

_ Blazes in Blazers: It is, but not for being bad. For being hurt and needing to heal. You’re not completely ready to go full tilt yet, and you know it. I’ll be home late tonight.  _

Well, that wouldn’t do. 

Malcolm hummed in thought, tapping his phone against his lips. He was going to have to get Gil to come home earlier than what he meant. “Staying late” usually meant “I’m going to stay the night at the precinct in my office” and that was not going to happen. 

But what could he do from his loft? 

A small smile pulled at his lips. 

Quickly he shoved his sweatpants and boxers down and off of him, kicking them away. He pulled off the threadbare Harvard sweatshirt and threw it across the room. Laying down naked in bed, thinking of Gil running leather gloved fingers across his heated skin, was making him hard, and he bit his lip as he reached down and stroked his cock slowly, waiting until he had a perfect little bead of precum on the tip. 

He snapped a picture of his cock laying against his taut stomach, the bead unmoving and obscuring the little hole of his cock. 

Malcolm Bright had a damn good looking cock. It was long and lithe, just like him, with a perfectly circumcised head, nestled in dark brown curls. It even photographed well, and he smirked in satisfaction as he geared it up to send it as a message to Gil. 

_ I Am Bright: [Picture Attached]. Hope this case doesn’t get you down. Wish you were here. XX _

He laid back and waited for Gil to either text or call. 

It didn’t take long for his boyfriend to text back. 

_ Blazes in Blazers: REALLY, MALCOLM? I’M AT A CRIME SCENE. WITH YOUR COWORKERS, MIND.  _

Malcolm grinned mischievously. 

_ I Am Bright: I don’t mind if you show it off. I have a good looking cock. And I know that you’re not really that mad. You like what you see, Daddy?  _

_ Blazes in Blazers: I do, baby boy, but this was a very naughty thing for you to do. You should cover up.  _

Malcolm read that message a few times before the mischievous grin got bigger. 

Oh, Gil didn’t know  _ what  _ he just unleashed. 

_ I Am Bright: Okay, Daddy.  _

_ Blazes in Blazers: And to make sure that you did, I want a picture.  _

_ I Am Bright: Yes, Daddy.  _

Perfect. Absolutely fucking perfect. 

Being carefully not to move too quickly (Gil may be right to leave him at home, but that didn’t mean that Malcolm had to like it), he went over to his dresser and pulled out something he had been needing an excuse to wear. 

Antagonizing Gil Arroyo was the perfect excuse for it. 

He quickly slipped on all of the pieces and then took a look at himself in the mirror. 

Oh, he looked  _ good.  _

A pair of black thigh highs slipped up his legs, being held up by red lace garters. There were little silver daggers in the garters on the outside, sharp enough to cut fabric but not skin. Red silk panties (because he loved the feeling of silk) that were high waisted and had a black silk ribbon on each side, tying them together in a laced corset design. A red camisole that was cut low in the back, barely exposing the bandages on his left side and in a halter style, the same black silk ribbon tied just a little too snugly around his neck. A black bow rested in the middle of his chest, at roughly his sternum. 

He hummed in satisfaction as he ran his fingers through his hair, mussing it up a little bit. Precum was already staining his panties, creating the faintest wet spot and he shivered as he looked at himself for a few heartbeats longer. 

His phone vibrated, and he picked it up. 

_ Blazes in Blazers: Are you covered up yet?  _

_ I Am Bright: Yes, Daddy. I was just about to take the picture for you.  _

_ Blazes in Blazers: Good, baby boy.  _

Malcolm purred from the praise and held up the phone to take the picture. He cocked his hip out and extended his back leg. Biting his lip, he snapped the picture in the mirror. Actually, he took a couple in slightly different poses. 

He chose one and then sent it to Gil. 

_ I Am Bright: [Picture Attached] All covered up, Daddy *kissy face emoji* _

Malcolm sashayed back to bed, smiling as he heard Sunshine tweeting happily. 

Today was a good day. 

He flopped back into his bed in an undignified manner and waited for Gil to reply. 

This time, Gil didn’t respond for a little bit. Malcolm contented himself with scrolling through a cold case file on his phone, thinking and making notes in his head. 

When the text came through, Malcolm grinned. 

_ Blazes in Blazers: I’m going to be home in twenty minutes.  _

_ I Am Bright: What happened to coming home late?  _

_ Blazes in Blazers: I told the team that you were close to ripping your stitches out. Which may end up happening once I’m through with you. _

Malcom smirked and rolled over onto his stomach in order to reply. 

_ I Am Bright: I thought today’s goal was to prevent that?  _

_ Blazes in Blazers: That was before you sent me that picture, you tempter. I’m going to make your ass the same color as those panties once I’m able to, you know.  _

_ I Am Bright: Gil! _

_ Blazes in Blazers: I’m being honest, baby boy. Keeping such pretty things from me, and then using them when I say “cover up”? Tsk tsk.  _

_ I Am Bright: To be fair, you never said  _ how  _ I would have to cover up.  _

_ Blazes in Blazers: Don’t try to lawyer your way out of this one. Ten minutes.  _

_ I Am Bright: You said twenty minutes sixteen minutes and thirty eight seconds ago! _

_ Blazes in Blazers: Don’t be concerned about my driving. Be concerned about being driven.  _

Malcolm set his phone aside and stretched out on the bed. Maybe if he acted like he was like this all this time… 

Well, who was he kidding? Gil knew what Malcolm was wearing when he left that morning. 

Still. It was fun to pretend. 

He resisted the urge to rut against the bed in need, but only barely. The idea that Gil was coming home, and was likely breaking several traffic laws to do so…. 

He must have dozed off, because the next thing he remembered is a hand coming down on his upturned ass. He whimpered and turned his head to look at Gil standing behind him, in his customary turtleneck and blazer, rubbing his rump and looking at him with heady eyes. 

“Hi, Daddy,” he cooed softly. 

“Hi indeed, baby boy,” Gil murmured, walking around to the other side of the bed. Using a gentle hand, he guided Malcolm up and into a more kneeling position on the bed before leaning in to kiss him sweetly. 

Malcolm melted into the kiss, tasting chapstick and the diesel fuel that the precinct passes for coffee and one of Edrissa’s candies on his tongue. He moaned and wrapped his arms around Gil’s neck, pulling the older man closer. 

“You’re an evil man, and a naughty little boy,” Gil murmured, running his hands over Malcolm’s back and ass, feeling the young profiler shiver against him. 

“Only for you, Daddy,” Malcolm said sincerely. He pressed himself into Gil more, and smirked. 

“I hope your mother doesn’t know that you bought this,” Gil murmured, letting his fingers slide up the back of Malcolm’s head, twirling his fingers into the hair. 

“That’s why it’s on Ainsley’s credit card,” Malcolm smirked against Gil, gasping as Gil yanked his head back to press bruising kisses against his throat. 

“Naughty boy,” Gil chuckled. “I hope ‘she’ didn’t spend too much on it.” 

“There’s very few things I spend true money on, but why do you ask?” Malcolm asked, moaning as Gil nipped a collarbone. 

“Because I’m going to tear it apart with those pretty little daggers and leave you in just the stockings and fuck your brains out,” Gil growled against his flushed skin. 

Malcolm shivered. “Fuck, Daddy, please,” he whispered. 

Gil guided Malcolm to lay down against the bed and his wrists into the manacles that still hung on Malcolm’s bedframe. The shackles that once shielded Malcolm from his nightmares had a new purpose: for Gil to restrain him to fuck him hard and fast. 

“Safe word,” Gil requested. 

“Surgeon,” Malcolm replied. “Daddy-” 

“I’m going to take care of you, baby boy,” Gil soothed, kissing Malcolm’s nose and smiling as Malcolm reflexively scrunched it up. “Don’t worry, I’ve got you, naughty as you’ve been.” 

Malcolm smirked and watched with bated breath as Gil carefully twisted the dagger sheathed in the left garter. Gil met his eyes and smirked before pulling the dagger through the garter, letting the lace fall against his thigh. 

“Such trust in me,” Gil murmured softly as he repeated the motions on the right thigh and Malcolm still didn’t flinch. “It’s intoxicating, Malcolm. My perfect little baby boy.” 

Malcolm shivered as Gil leaned up and kissed him again. This one was filthier, filled with undisguised passion and the manacles clinked against the bedframe as he strained to grab Gil’s blazer, desperate to shove it off. 

“Why are we struggling now? Don’t we like being chained up, being made to do what you’re told?” Gil asked teasingly, drawing Malcolm’s lower lip in between his teeth and sucking on it hard. 

“Daddy,” Malcolm whined. “Please.” 

“Use your words, Malcolm, you’re usually very good with those,” Gil murmured. “What do you want?” 

Malcolm turned a pleading face onto Gil. “Please, can you take your clothes off?” he asked sweetly. He wanted all the skin to skin contact he could get. 

“You want me to take my clothes off? Oh, why didn’t you just say so, baby boy?” Gil withdrew and now Malcolm whined at the loss of Gil’s comforting warmth. He watched as Gil set down the daggers. He stripped off his blazer, turtleneck, undershirt, slacks, and boxers before getting back into Malcolm’s space. “Now, where were we?” he asked. “Ah, yes.” He picked the daggers up and crawled back on top of Malcolm again. “I was going to cut your pretty things off. Just need to decide on where to start.” 

Malcolm tilted his head back and closed his eyes, shuddering in need, want, and bliss. This was the reaction he was hoping for and more, cock leaking inside the panties as he surrendered himself to Gil. 

He felt the dagger slip underneath the ribbon of his panties and heard each soft little cut as Gil traced the dagger up his right thigh. His breathing was ragged, he wasn’t sure if he’d last until Gil slipped inside of him. 

_ Next time, cock ring,  _ he thought to himself, thinking of his hidden sex toy stash in the shoe box in the closet that was marked  _ tuxedo shoes.  _ Though those were mostly hidden for Jessica’s benefit. 

“So still for me, is this all I got to do to get you to be still?” Gil asked. “Use a pretty little knife against your skin?” 

Malcolm whimpered, biting his lip. He’s already had far more fantasies than necessary about Gil using a knife, or even a gun on him. He didn’t think Gil would ever go for something like that, but he knew he was probably going to have that discussion. 

The other side of the panties fell away and Gil ripped them out from Malcolm’s person. His calloused hand wrapped around Malcolm’s cock and Malcolm cried out in pleasure, his hips rocking up and into Gil’s hand. 

“Daddy, please, please fuck me,” he begged. 

“Are you open for me, baby boy?” Gil murmured. “Or do you just want to be fucked hard and dirty?” 

“Hard and dirty,  _ please, _ ” Malcolm begged. 

“Well, I’m not going to enter you dry,” Gil said. 

“Daddy-” and there was Gil’s fingers gripping his chin, tilting his face so he’d be forced to look into stormy waters. 

“I’ll give you pain if that’s what you want, Malcolm,” Gil murmured seriously, “but I won’t cause you lasting damage. You  _ will  _ be patient enough for me to slick up my cock, or you will content yourself with gagging on it.” 

Malcolm whined, and Gil leaned in for another bruising kiss. His fingers curled into fists and he struggled uselessly against his restraints, eager and needy. 

“Relax, Malcolm, I’ve got you,” Gil murmured. “You just need to be a little patient. Maybe I can help you with that.” 

“How?” Malcolm huffed as Gil withdrew and reached into the side table for the bottle of lube. 

Gil smirked. “I can always custom order a paddle with the word  _ patience _ stamped on it. So I can beat patience into you.” 

Malcolm stared at his boyfriend. “Did you… did you just make a dad joke in the middle of sex?” he asked. 

Gil smirked as he poured a generous amount in his hand and cast the bottle onto the floor. “You’ll find out if I’m serious or not,” he said as he slicked up his cock. “For now, I think you have more pressing matters on your mind.” 

Malcolm opened his mouth to ask Gil exactly what he meant by that, but then the blunt head of Gil’s thick cock was pressing against his hole, and any questions were gone from his head, gone into the void as he felt his toes curl against his bedspread and he cried out as Gil slid into him. 

“That’s it, you’re doing fantastic,” Gil praised. “Such a good baby boy for me. You’re perfect for me, Malcolm.” 

Heat pooled from his face to his feet as he sank, Malcolm shivering as Gil came flush against him. He leaked against the camisole, and he barely had time to ask Gil if he wanted to cut the cami away before Gil was pounding into him, rough and fast and hard and he was sobbing out his pleasure, taking the brutal pace as easily as anything while he struggled, while he whimpered for Daddy to keep going. 

Gil ducked his head down and bit down roughly on Malcolm’s collarbone, and the younger man nearly came right then and there, feeling the stinging pain and relishing in it. “Da-Daddy,” he whined. 

“Cum,” Gil ordered in a growl. 

Malcolm did, black scrollwork dotted with white lace appearing in his vision as he came all over his lover and the camisole he was wearing, whimpering and whining and clenching as he felt Gil cum in response to his own orgasm. 

They laid there, breathing heavily as Gil peppered kisses along his chest and neck. He waited until Gil kissed his lips before sighing softly, shivering this time from the cold. 

“Here,” Gil said tenderly. He unlocked the shackles and rubbed Malcolm’s wrists. “Let’s get you out of that dirty cami, check your stitches, clean you up and then we’ll get you into nice warm clothes to cuddle in. Sound good?” 

“You’re not going back to the precinct?” Malcolm asked hopefully. 

Gil smiled and tapped Malcolm’s nose. “I’ve got you to look after,” he said. “That was a hard scene, whether you want to admit it or not.” 

Malcolm nodded in agreement, pushing his hair up to allow Gil to untie the camisole and toss it in the vague direction of the dirty laundry. He watched Gil grab the wet wipes from the bedside table and clean the cum from him, all without exiting him. 

When he did get out, Malcolm groaned, then blushed as he felt some of it leak out. He moaned as he watched Gil use a thumb to gently push it back in and then clean it with a wet wipe. 

The stitches were fine, and Gil redid the bandages (and complained about the sloppy job Malcolm did, another attempt to get Gil to come back) before putting Malcolm in a pair of FBI Academy sweatpants and a longsleeved shirt before getting into his own plaid flannel pajama pants. Malcolm curled up with Gil and rested his head on his chest, cooing. 

“You need to learn how to be alone, Malcolm,” Gil murmured. 

“I know how to be alone, I usually am,” Malcolm murmured, nuzzling Gil’s chest. “It’s the boredom. I don’t like being bored.” 

“Don’t I know it,” Gil said dryly. “Work on some of the cold cases- from your room.” 

Malcolm sighed and closed his eyes. “Spoilsport.” 

Gil chuckled and kissed his hair. “Get some sleep, Bright,” he commanded gently. 

“Yes, Daddy,” Malcolm murmured, letting his eyes drift closed. He fell asleep to Gil’s hand rubbing his back, Sunshine tweeting, and feeling taken care of in all ways. 

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr: @lucibae-is-dancing-in-hell
> 
> Twitter: @Alendra_Dragon
> 
> TikTok: @officerlucifer
> 
> Comments and Kudos are Shiny!!


End file.
